


We'll Show Them Together

by leporidae



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Childhood Trauma, Christmas Caroling, Fire Emblem Compendium Secret Anna 2019, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship, Self Confidence Issues, in a sense i suppose
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-23
Updated: 2019-12-23
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:15:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21805021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leporidae/pseuds/leporidae
Summary: The little girl who grows up to be his mother, a child of loneliness and nightmares, sits alone.
Relationships: Aqua | Azura & Shigure
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	We'll Show Them Together

**Author's Note:**

> I participated in the Fire Emblem Compendium's Secret Anna for the third year in a row this year. It's such a vibrant community I'm happy to be a part of. This fic is for my recipient [LordMitsu](https://twitter.com/lordmitsuki) who requested Shigure caroling with young Azura. It was a super soft request and I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Happy holidays!

Askr celebrates the holiday season quite cheerfully; Sharena is (literally) spearheading the festivities, one bright red ribbon tied to the hilt of Fensalir that she waves about like a flag at any passerby. Anna runs from room to room of the castle taking stock of their inventory while Alfonse halfheartedly strings up his sister’s individually hand-crafted decorations.

It’s Shigure’s first winter in Askr, and he finds himself surrounded by strangers and familiar faces alike. Somehow in this place, where warriors and rivals from so many words are gathered, everyone is able to celebrate together. Coming from a life plagued by constant conflict and the ever-looming threat of warring nations unable to coexist, Shigure finds it quite admirable.

It would be idyllic — like a _dream,_ almost —

But not everything is right.

The little girl who grows up to be his mother, a child of loneliness and nightmares, sits alone.

Azura’s hands are clasped in her lap with shaking fingers, and she stares down at them glumly, detached from the festivities. No one pays her any mind amidst their socialization and laughter, and it gnaws at something deep within Shigure, reminding him of his own loneliness in his Deeprealm apart from his mother. Those times she had visited him, her presence reminding Shigure that there was someone in the world who still cared for him, are still the most precious memories of his childhood. Though the girl before him now is scared and lonely, Shigure knows she grows up to be a strong and resilient woman he admires. If he can extend that same hand to this girl now and bestow upon her those same kinds of treasured memories, perhaps Shigure can ease her own fragile heart the way she will eventually ease his. 

“Azura,” Shigure says softly, approaching the child after a moment’s hesitation. This Azura, the solitary girl who had been brought here from the force of the Tempest and an illusion of dreams, does not know that she is his mother; yet of course Shigure knows they are family, and his heart aches for her sadness. “What’s wrong?

She sniffles, rubbing her knuckles across her eye to wipe away the tears. “It doesn’t matter,” she mumbles, heart-wrenchingly pitiful. “Everyone else is having fun, I don’t want to be a burden...”

“Hey, now,” Shigure says kindly, reaching out to take her hand in his own. Azura flinches, unused to any form of offered kindness. “You should have fun, too. You’re not a bother to anyone.”

Her golden eyes widen, sparkling hopeful like gems. “R-really? You really think that…?”

“Of course,” Shigure assures her, giving her petite hand a squeeze. “Why don’t you and I do something fun together? No one should be alone when everyone else is celebrating. I know that feeling too,” he adds in an almost whisper. “I spent a lot of time alone myself, Azura. And it hurt. I don’t want to see you hurting like that. Besides —” He straightens up, tugging the crumpled girl to her feet. “If we’re together, then neither of us can be alone, right?”

Azura blinks, slowly. “You’re very nice to me,” she says after a pause, voice timid as though she doesn’t quite believe it, and that hurts Shigure more than anything. He knew that his mother had suffered as a child, though she rarely ever spoke of it; all that anguish was locked up in her chest like the pendant she wore around her neck, eating away at her even as she continued moving forward with that mild, secretive smile. She had shared her songs with Shigure despite the pain they caused her, and despite how poignantly they reminded her of her own lonely memories, because she hadn’t wished for her son to experience that same pain.

“Azura,” Shigure says, smiling down at her. “Why don’t we sing together?”

“Sing?” Azura echoes in a small voice. “I — I don’t know. What if someone hears us? Won’t they be bothered?”

“Of course not — just the opposite. Your voice has the power to make people smile. In fact, I’m sure of it.”

“I don’t understand,” Azura says. “People… people always look away from me. Doesn’t that mean there’s something wrong with me? Why would they smile…?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Azura.” _What if I can’t get through to her?_ Shigure wonders with a pang of uncertainty he pushes away forcefully. “I promise. Everyone here is happy to have you. Especially — especially me.”

“Really?” For once, there’s something hopeful in her face, and Shigure’s heart leaps. “People will be happy if I sing?”

 _I’m happy just to spend time with you, Mother,_ Shigure thinks, but holds his tongue. “Of course,” he says. “You have a lovely voice.”

Azura almost smiles — but that moment of content is fleeting, and more doubt flickers across her features as her lips curl downwards. “I don’t know any of the songs they sing here,” she mumbles, cheeks heating with shame. “I won’t be able to sing with you…”

Shigure shakes his head. “There’s a song we both know, Azura,” he says. 

“H-huh? But how?”

“Trust me,” he says gently. “I’ll start, and you can join in whenever you feel comfortable, okay?”

“Are you... sure?”

“I promise.”

The thought of singing in front of this many people, even though the crowd is mostly distracted with their own individual holiday tasks, is quite daunting. Shigure swallows, feeling his palms grow clammy from nerves. Not only is he amidst a throng of strangers, but — Azura is looking up at him expectantly, with those same familiar and admiring eyes through which Shigure is usually looking at _her._ A pang of worry courses through him; what if she finds his voice disappointing, or worse — what if he cannot comfort her like she deserves?

Shigure takes a deep, shaky breath.

_You are the ocean’s grey waves_

_Destined to seek life beyond the shore_

_Just out of reach…_

People are beginning to stop what they’re doing and look in his direction. Shigure feels his cheeks warm, and his voice lodges in his throat.

And then —

Another voice, feeble and demure, pipes up beside him.

_Yet the waters ever change_

_Flowing like time_

_The path is yours to climb._

_She’s singing._

Azura squeezes his hand, and Shigure looks down at her, heartbeat stuttering with relief at the beaming grin spreading across her face, warmer than any expression Shigure has seen her make.

_And… she’s smiling._

A crowd begins to gather around them, and Shigure’s confidence is renewed knowing that Azura is relying on him, that she has taken the hand offered to her and has joined him in this melody, in this solidarity of music and song and the spirit of two lonely hearts joined as one.

Now, before their new audience of heroes and legends and soldiers from many worlds, Shigure and Azura stand hand in hand, and they sing together.

_Life is not just filled with happiness_

_Nor sorrow_

_Even the thorn in your heart,_

_In time it may become a rose._


End file.
